


Wow, dude, breathe.

by deomai



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coping, Eventual Romance, Fluff, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, So much fucking fluff, Stridercest - Freeform, Trans Dave Strider, Trans Dirk Strider, Yeah its, again its not pointed out, bros helping bros recover, i don't point it out in the fic but i religiously write dave as trans, suck my dicc, theyre so soft i love them so much, whatcha gon do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 08:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deomai/pseuds/deomai
Summary: Dirk has arms firmly wrapped around you, and at first, you struggle. Scratch and even kick at him. He doesn’t let up. Finally, you break down into his hold. You cling onto him, horrified he’ll vanish.





	Wow, dude, breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> hi i wrote this during a rlly bad panic attack to try and calm down please enjoy soft boys being soft.

You remember being human.

The countless strifes, piles of selfies, and endless shenanigans you had with your friends.

 

You remember John dying.

Jade becoming MIA, having to leave Rose.

 

You remember becoming a freak.

The talons, the tail, the giant wings, never-ending blood pouring from your abdomen when you used yourself as a sheath. How sick it made you to even look at yourself.

 

You remember his death.

Dave’s Bro, not yours.

 

Still, though, it was him, and for the second time, you lost a Bro. You didn’t care as much about this Bro, he was the same old prick you grew up with, but it made you long for _your_ Bro.

The man who saw you, sitting alone, dropped down behind you and hugged onto you.

Apologized. For the strifes. For a lot. For _everything_.

 

In the time you had with just him and Rose, you had a family.

A Bro who, although still by nature kind of a dick, wasn’t abusing you around every corner.

He ruffled your hair that night. When you told him about your plan.

He said, “You do what you gotta do, Lil Man. I’ll be alright.”

 

You knew it was a lie.

But it was your only option to trust his words.

Sometimes, your logical side reminds you, that he wasn’t being nice.

That Bro Strider cannot be nice.

Bro Strider can only use, manipulate, and destroy.

 

Even so, when you first saw Dave’s Bro, you flung yourself onto him.

He didn’t push you away, but he didn’t hold onto you.

He just stood, ever silent and expressionless.

You weren’t his kid, “You’re a freaky lookin’ thing.”

He was right.

 

You fought by his side, anyway. He used you as a shield more than once.

Not that you can blame him.

Then time kept moving. You came to terms with the awfulness that was your Bro, on your own.

 

No longer could you keep perfect track of time.

Although you hated that aspect of your power before, now the lack is deafening.

You lose yourself in thought so often.

 

Everything seemed to move fast.

 

Faster when you stopped being Davesprite and became someone new.

 

Then it stopped.

 

The game ended.

 

Your, no. Dave’s friends and he went through the door.

It was over.

 

Once the door closed, you were torn from Nepeta.

Screaming in agony as the game did you one last fuck over.

It ripped you to shreds, and when you woke up in the dream bubbles you were still caught mid-scream.

Tears pouring down your face, chest heaving.

 

You were back in the apartment.

It looked different. But you couldn’t deny it was home.

 

Laying on the futon, you take a long time to collect your bearings. Calm down harsh sobs.

Your body still hurts. You feel weak, uncoordinated.

When you reach up to scratch at familiar neck feathers, fingers hit skin.

Not feathers. No talons.

 

You move without thought, straight into the bathroom.

Straight to the mirror.

You simply stare.

 

You’re human again.

Just good ole Dave. White blonde hair, sickly pale skin, eyebrows so light you gotta draw those bitches in.

Red.

Red-hued eyes stare back at you.

For once in your life, you love that color. Genuinely love it.

You had gotten so sick of orange.

 

You’re soon shaken from your celebration.

There’s a grunt, and you don’t recognize it.

You’re likely in shock, fumbling as you begin gearing up as if you still had Nepeta’s claws, ready to defend yourself.

 

A tired, messy man stands in the doorway.

His hair is all over the fucking place, shades askew, tanktop hiked halfway up his torso so he can scratch at his chest, sweatpants that have seen way better days clinging onto his hips via a tightly tied drawstring.

 

Blonde hair.

Dorito shades.

Bro.

Bro.

Bro.

Bro.

You fucking found him.

You ignore that he has no tattoos, no piercings, his scars are completely different.

Ignore it all.

 

“ _Bro_ ,” Your voice breaks as you repeat the word out loud, this time.

You’re sobbing, all over again.

It’s not a slow gathering of tears, it’s sudden and it hits hard. You’re gagging on your own sobs within moments.

Bro blinks tiredly before he seems to register you.

 

You flinch, instinctively, when he goes to touch you.

That trait came with the sprite aspect. You lost control of your facade, no longer capable of disguising it as you reeled away from other’s touch.

 

“I’m not sure who you’re mistaking me for, but, I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Your heart shatters, every single drop of joy just seeps out of your body with that single sentence.

“Hey, wow. Don’t look at me like that. Shit. It’s alright, dude. You clearly have something going on. I mean if you don’t take a second and breathe I think you’re gonna start dry heaving.”

He pauses, looks at you closely.

 

“Haha… You look like _my_ Bro.”

His Bro?

Oh.

 

So this is a doomed _Dirk_. Not a Bro.

You never liked Dirk very much.

He loved Dave to death, for some reason you hated him for it.

 

“I-” You shake, try to steady yourself. Even to this Dirk, you’re not the original.

Even if now you look like yourself again. Now you are Dave. Not Dave _sprite_.

 

“Hey.” He hums thoughtfully.

“Come sit down, you need to take some deep breaths and relax.”

He’s so kind.

You didn’t expect him to be so nice.

Your stomach churns, he’s _nothing_ like Bro.

 

Bro would have whacked you on the back of the head, told you to stop being a baby, then scooped you up. Tossed you a bottle of AJ and told you to shit off.

You miss him so much.

You want your fucking brother. You don’t care if you sound like a baby, _you want Bro_.

 

Dirk waddles a little in place when you only start crying a tad harder.

He really does look worried.

You hate it.

 

“Uh- Hold on.” He goes to grab onto you, but you back the fuck up so quick you trip.

Fall ass first backward into the standing shower.

It looks different than yours did.

 

The room around you warps, smuppets fill the area.

Yeah. That’s more like it.

 

One sits in the shower next to you, damp.

A stupid puppet smut poster hangs on the bathroom door, Dirk looked surprised.

“Wait, wait. This is the same room. I mean I expected you’d start changing the scenery soon with how nervous you are but this is the _same_.”

“It’s not the same, fuckwad. It’s _Bro’s_.” You snarl at him.

 

“What. Why do you have an attitude with me? You looked so fucking happy to see me at first, too.”

“I thought you were him.”  
“Your bro. What’s his name?”

“Bro.”

He raises a brow at you. “That’s a dumb name.”

“Fuck you!”

 

Dirk retreats on that track of talk, kneels down in front of you.

You’re aware of yourself. Aware of how hard you’re shaking, how you’re backing up into the corner like he’s going to hurt you.

Like a scared fucking cat.

“Who are _you_?” He asks, quiet and soft as he holds his arms out.

 

“Dave Strider.” You don’t move, you merely shake harder at his silent offer of a hug.

He doesn’t move, either. “Will you tell me why you’re covered in so many scars? You apparently aren’t from my post-apocalyptic timeline, so, color me curious.”

You swallow, thickly. A lump forms in your throat.

 

Even now, those memories are painful. They hurt and they’re so hard to bare.

You close your eyes, more tears drip down your face.

Bile rises in your throat.

You’re completely unaware of the scenery changing until your nose fills with a strong tinge of iron.

 

The roof, where Bro stands, and you(a mirage of the old you) lay shaking in a pool of blood.

You hear yourself, mumble out a weak, “I can’t.”

 

Then you feel the warmth.

All around you.

You open your eyes, safe and tucked back on the futon in the same version of the apartment you’d first woken up in.

Dirk has arms firmly wrapped around you, and at first, you struggle.

Scratch and even kick at him.

He doesn’t let up.

Finally, you break down into his hold.

You cling onto him, horrified he’ll vanish.

 

Almost an hour passes just like that.

 

“Why are you looking for him?” He asks, softly petting your hair as you calm down from your sobs.

“I miss him.” Your voice is scratchy.

“How can you miss a monster like that?”

 

You want to disagree, put up a fuss.

But he’s right.

Even if your Bro ended up being a slightly better man in the end, or pretended to, it doesn’t change how it started.

How he was since you could barely talk.

A _monster_.

 

Why _do_ you miss him?

The nice version of Bro, your Bro, still pushed you away.

But. Dirk. He’s holding onto you. He’s patient, caring, and _safe_.

You think you understand why Dave loved him so much.

 

Carefully, you lift your arms up around his neck, hug him close.

His grip on you merely tightens.

 

“Because I’m scared of being alone.”

 

Those words seem to have struck him in a way you couldn’t understand.

He went all tense, then absolutely relaxed. Laid down with you and just held you close.

Then he said, oh so softly, the special words. “Then stay with me.”

 

Stay you did.

You told him all about your timeline, that it completed the game.

You told him about your Bro, about Dave, about his Dirk.

He told you about his bro, D, and about how he never made it into the game.

How he had spent years in the dream bubbles pondering himself.

He had run across no one else, no one aside from you.

 

You learned he was scared of being alone, too.

 

Years passed. You both looked exactly the same.

Laughed and joked with each other, wrestled and played thumb wars for the last piece of sweet and sour chicken.

 

For the second time in your life, you were happy.

Genuinely, and truly, happy.

The first was when you met John and Rose, of course…

You wish you could have met Jade, too.

 

Dirk was everything you needed in a person.

More than once he said you were everything he needed _and_ wanted in someone.

 

You were both happy.

So ridiculously happy.

Until one day, you realized you’re ruining it.

 

Your mind started to drift, away from just watching him laugh to noticing how big his smile is.

How nice his lips look.

How endless his gaze is.

 

His warm hugs made you dizzy, light touches felt electric.

You were in love with him, and it made you sick and nervous.

 

Sure. He already told you about how he, for a very long time, had the biggest dweeb crush on D.

But this is different.

This is _you_.

 

Maybe you never really got over all of the self-hate your birdself gathered over the years.

 

You definitely didn’t. Whomst the fuck are you fooling?

 

Dirk notices you getting distant.

He asks about it because you guys talk about shit.

You’re open to each other.

It was the first agreement, the basic rule.

 

You couldn’t lie to him, so you hung your head in shame and you told him.

“I love you.” The sadness on your expression got this look of pain from him, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, though.

 

He got a finger under your chin, tipped your head back before peppering kisses all over your face.

“I love you, too, Dave.”

 

You wet back to being happy, and dammit all. You _stayed_ happy.

You two became somehow impossibly closer.

Neither of you had to be alone again. Neither of you had to suffer in silence.

You both had each other and fuck if that wasn’t so much more than you could have dreamed of.

 

He had you, and you had him. _Forever._ As cheesy as it sounds.

 

You think you like cheesy things, now.


End file.
